


天国奴隷: Leather and Flower Crowns

by dainochild



Category: Makai Ouji: Devils and Realist, Pocket Monsters: Black & White | Pokemon Black and White Versions
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, M/M, Tumblr Ask Box Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-03
Updated: 2014-01-03
Packaged: 2018-03-16 22:28:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3505091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dainochild/pseuds/dainochild
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In death, Black's been made the new Angel of Repentance and Cruelty. Michael continuously calls him Uriel, strokes his face with his feet, and generally makes him so uncomfortable Black sucks at his job. Michael gives him an ultimatum; successfully complete a job, or lose his wings. Naturally, that's when he meets N.</p>
            </blockquote>





	天国奴隷: Leather and Flower Crowns

**Author's Note:**

  * For [empyrealqueen](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=empyrealqueen).



> Written for empyrealqueen. Takes a lot of liberties with Makai Ouji canon.

When Black became an angel, they forbade him from wearing leather pants. He’d never been particularly into the idea of wearing leather pants while he was alive, and he didn’t plan on changing that much, but Black still asked, “What’s so bad about leather pants?”

“Leather clothing is a trademark of the Fallen,” the arch-angel Michael informed him.

“Huh. Okay.”

“Oh, little boy…” Michael placed a foot on Black’s cheek, forcing their eyes to meet. “Don’t even think of crossing me.”

“…why is your foot on my face.”

Michael moved his foot up and down, gently caressing Black’s cheek with it.

“Um. Okay.”

They made Black the new Uriel, Arch-Angel of Repentance and Cruelty. How those went together Black didn’t quite get for a long time. He forced people into redemption for their sins and then he took their souls. Basically, made them praise Jesus then killed them. Fucked up. Apparently the original Uriel had joined King Solomon’s gay demon harem, and the one before Black had only lasted a hundred years before declaring himself The Arch-Angel of Partying Down and started forsaking his purpose. Michael had consequently ripped his wings off and beheaded him.

“So you’d better last, eh, little boy?” Michael giggled with more foot-to-face stroking.

It was a pretty fucking depressing job. Black was constantly interacting with mortals, constantly forcing them to do things they didn’t want to through whatever means necessary, constantly fighting demons to be the first to claim souls. The moments Black spent in Heaven away from Michael’s feet were so fucking amazing, but it just made him more bitter when he had to leave. He lost more and more battles, let more and more souls fall to Hell, and it honestly just made him feel worse about returning to Heaven. Why was he allowed to inherit the Kingdom at all, even as a worker, when he couldn’t even help people properly?

“You’re disappointing me very quickly, Uriel,” Michael purred, stroking Black’s wings with his feet. “I would so hate to take these from you, little brother. But if you fail to save the next one, well, you’ll leave me no choice.”

Of course there was a demon there. They were tempting a king to decide what to do about some war. Black was vague on the details. He hadn’t seen the demon before, he knew that. The demon was wearing leather pants, fishnet fingerless gloves, something that was probably meant to be a shirt but wasn’t really, and a crown of white roses atop his messily ponytailed green hair.

“Oh, you’re the new Uriel, aren’t you.” The demon didn’t seem to be actually asking a question, he seemed pretty certain of it. “What’s your real name?”

“Black.”

“Black,” the demon repeated, trying it out. “Well, I suppose it does sound better than Hilbert.”

“The only thing that ever called me Hilbert was my birth certificate,” Black muttered.

“Well, I’m N.”

It was clearly every bit a fake name as Black was, but Black really didn’t care.

“I remember the original Uriel,” N recalled. “He was okay with only humans inheriting the Kingdom of God because it meant he had fewer sins to cleanse. Typical of an angel.”

Black didn’t say anything.

“Do you like Heaven?” N asked.

“When I get to go there, yeah.”

“It’s terrible, isn’t it, that now any chance of happiness you’ll ever have depends on the whims of God and Michael. On top of that, it’s only humans made from dust and mud of all things, and no other creature, who can ever inherit the Kingdom permanently.”

“I know what you’re trying to do,” Black sighed. “You’re not very good at Temptation. You haven’t even offered me anything yet.”

N snorted. “I don’t _bribe_ people. I only want to be with those who understand the cruelty in God’s system. But I suppose, as Arch-Angel of Cruelty, you enjoy it?”

“I don’t,” Black insisted. “I hate it. But I’m not gonna be able to do anything about it from Hell, am I?”

“Of course you are, don’t act so stupid.”

“Then, N, why haven’t you done more than just tempt humans for the past two millennia?” Black asked. “Why haven’t you done something that actually makes the Divine fit that damn word?”

“Hmph, I can’t expect an angel to understand,” N muttered. “Especially one who still thinks millennia are a long time.”

Black glared.

“What will happen to you, if you don’t get this human’s soul?” N asked.

“Michael’ll rip my wings off,” Black replied.

N winced. “Then, this time, I’ll let you have it. Even if you have been terribly rude, shoving your ignorance in my face like this…”

“I don’t need your pity,” Black snapped.

“It’s not pity, it’s mercy,” N said. “I know how painful having your wings ripped off is. And soon you’ll see, all the mercy in the universe comes from Hell. Heaven has no concept of it.”

Black would’ve said something rude, but N was helping him out. “Thanks. I guess.”

N walked off, not quite casually, just like he didn’t really care. It was strange. Michael described Hell as a prison, an inescapable place of nothing but torment, but N walked like a king.

When Black brought the soul to Michael, Michael ignored it. He grabbed Black by the jacket and pinned him to the wall, inhaling his scent deeply.

“I smell Lucifer on you,” Michael growled. “Where did you see the Adversary, Uriel?”

“That, that was him?” Black gasped.

Michael’s hand curled around his throat. “Don’t play innocent, Uriel. Tell me where he is so I can finally kill him!”

“He, he wanted the soul too,” Black rasped. “Let, lemme go.”

Michael did. Black slid down the wall, gasping for breath.

“You beat him?” Michael asked.

“Only verbally, I guess?”

“Hmph,” Michael said. “Well. You’re going to be a fun one, Uriel.”

If the angels were this bad, Black wondered what the rest of the demons were like. And in his mind, he couldn’t stop picturing N smirking victoriously if he ever found out about the doubt blooming in Black’s mind.


End file.
